First
by left write left
Summary: "I love you." "I love you more." "Well, I loved you first."
1. Chapter 1

"Hey there! Just a few things before we get into the story:

1) I haven't been active in this fandom since I was in middle school (which is quite a long time, considering I am now in college), so I haven't read _Twilight_ or any of the other books recently. I was just casually watching the marathon on Freeform last weekend and next thing I know, I have the first few chapters of this done. (Such is the life of a girl obsessed with background characters.) I thought it would be a waste of efforts to just delete everything, so I figured I could post it here for people to (hopefully) enjoy. That being said, there might be some timeline errors or things that don't quite align with canon. I can't be bothered to go back and fact check, so if that is something that will bother you, I'm sorry!

2) I'm kinda lazy which means that posts will be random.

3) Everyone makes this disclaimer, so I feel like I should too: obviously, I don't own Twilight, or these characters.

4) Thank you for dropping in, and I hope you enjoy enough to stick around!

"Sissy! Sissy! Wake up Sissy!"

"What d'you want, Lily?" I groan, opening my eyes just enough to see that it's still dark out. I move to pull the blankets over my head just as Lily clambers onto my bed and latches herself to my body.

"Daddy said for me to wake you up!" She explains eagerly, and obviously very proud of this prestigious opportunity. It's so precious, I can't help the turning up o the corner of my mouth. If anyone can get me to smile first thing in the morning, it's my sister. Which is likely the reason Dad sent her to wake me, rather than doing it himself.

"And you did such a good job!" I let that hint of a smile grow until it reaches full capacity. Lily snuggles against me and the warmth of it is enough to lull me into that tranquil almost-asleep-but-not-quite stage.

"Daddy made pancakes!" She chirps, jarring me awake again. Slowly, I sit up and stretch, cringing a little at the sound of my joints popping. I'm starting to think my parent's aren't joking when they say I sleep like the dead. /span/p

"Blueberry?"

"Duh!"

I snort a laugh. Even at four and a half, Lily is picking up on my sass. My parents are thrilled.

"Don't say 'duh," I chastise. "It's rude."

"Why?"

"I'm not sure how to explain the concept of condescension to a pre-kindergartener, so i just borrow Mom's favorite line. "Because I said so."

It seems to be enough, because Lily doesn't press the issue any further. We make our way downstairs with Lily counting each step aloud and me still wrapped in my duvet. I sit down next to Mom, who is already dressed in her scrubs and is fully engaged in her cup of coffee. Tiredly, I lean my head on her shoulder. She drops a kiss on the top of my head and says, "Good morning, Kimmy."

"Morning Mom."

"Our daughter, awake and talking before noon? Can it be?" Dad lets out a dramatic gasp that earns a chuckled from Mom and an eyeroll form me.

"Before the sun," I correct.

"Even more suspicious," Dad muses. "Who are you and what have you done with Kimberly Anne?"

"You're hilarious." I make sure my tone contradicts the words and roll my eyes again for good measure. "Why so early, anyway?"

"I just thought it would be nice to spend some time as a family this morning, without rushing around."

"Dad presents a platter of pancakes that are, true to tradition, the size of my face. Feeling ambitious, I put two on my plate and slather them with butter. The first bite is heavenly. I always forget how amazing Dad's blueberry pancakes are until he makes them again. I take another massive bite.

"Not a bad way to start the week after that three day weekend, right?" Dad says, laughing at my puffed out cheeks.

"After a snow and ice mix brought even the idea of motor traffic to a screeching halt on Friday morning, school was called off. Mom decided not to go to the clinic- -a rare occurrence- -and we spent the day in our pajamas drinking tea and watching the first three _Harry Potter_ movies.

"I smile, showing off the mushed up pancake. Dad laughs harder, but Mom swats my arm. "Don't be gross, Kim."

"Yeah!" Lily says, her mouth just as full as mine. "Don't be gross, Kimmy!"

Dad and I burst out laughing, which only encourages Lily. Mom looks at me, suddenly exhausted. "See what you've done?"

After breakfast, I went upstairs to get ready like I normally do, but then I remembered that it's only 6:47. I'm normally not even awake for another half hour. I collapse back into my bed and burrow my face into the pillow.

...

"Have a great day, sweetie!" Mom's voice is as loud as it is unexpected. My eyes fly open, and the slow, steady breaths of sleep change into a gasp so sharp it hurts my lungs a little.

"You too!" I choke out as I launch out of bed. I leave my comforter in a heap on the floor and dart out of my room, stopping only to stuff the books on my desk into my backpack.

Every morning, Mom leaves the house at 8:20 and drives to the small health clinic. Every morning, I am already dressed and packed and putting on my shoes when she calls her parting words up the stairs. But today, I don't even have time to change out of my flannel pants, or do something about the frizzy, fallen-out mess of a ponytail. I don't even have the spare two minutes to brush my teeth, but rather take a swig of mouthwash.

I'm still swishing it around in my mouth when I run out the door, Converse untied and on the wrong feet. This hinders my running abilities, as does the giant calculus book whacking against my back each time I take a step. But luckily, I'm normally very fast so even under the unfavorable conditions, I'm able to sprint the three blocks from my front door to the school with just enough time to put my shoes on the right feet before class.

When I look around the room, I'm delighted to see that I'm not the only one in a three day weekend slump. The class is a sea of hoodies and sweats. The only exception being Jared, who is wearing basketball shorts and a cutoff. I guess that could still count as pajamas, though.

 _Wait_.

I blink a few times, just to make sure I'm not imagining Jared, but he's still there. He is hunching over his- -and a little bit of my- -half of the work table, furiously copying two week's worth of notes from Molly Warren's pristine notebook. He's there, but he's different. The haphazard knot keeping his dark curls out of his face and off of his shoulders is gone. His _hair_ is gone. I allow myself just a second to mourn it, before a surge of delight pulses through me.

After two long weeks, he's here. As the loud voice always cracking jokes and diverting lessons, his absence was impossible to ignore for everyone. But mostly me, and not just because I've been in love with him since like, the fifth grade. Jared had left a sizable gap when he dropped off the face of the Earth. He had gradually been taking up more room at our desk, and while it had been nice to be able to rest my elbow on the surface of the table again, it was nicer to have Jared occupying that space again.

"Jared! I can't stop myself from exclaiming once I reach our table in the back corner of the room. "You're back!"

He looks up from the notebooks, that thousand-watt smile already lighting up his face, the dreary Pacific Northwest, the world. But then he looks at me, and it's gone. He just stares. Not blankly, exactly, but not focused, either. I couldn't even feel stupid about seeming so eager when I saw him, because I was too busy feeling unfathomably awkward. My cheeks catch fire.

Once I sit down, Jared shakes is head, as though he is physically clearing a thought. The smile comes back in full force. "Yeah, I figured everyone was starting to miss me."

"I was."

I have to fight the urge to clamp a hand over my mouth, but before the mortification can swallow me whole, I see Jared smile. It's not that beaming grin. This smile is soft and crooked, because he isn't trying to put it there. It's like he didn't even feel the corners of his mouth turn up. "Really?"

"Yeah," I clear my throat and respond as casually as possible, "It's been pretty boring without you."

"So you _do_ think I'm funny!" Jared picks up right were we left off, as if it hadn't been weeks since then. He's looking at me with the smugness of someone who has just won something much more noteworthy than a semester-long debate with me.

I roll my eyes and concede, "You have your moments."

Jared considers this. He shrugs his massive shoulders, "I'll take it."

Mr Armstrong is shuffling through the rows of desks, passing out a pop quiz over the last few chapters of emTo Kill a/em emMockingbird/em. In his paper-thin voice, he jokes that he expects a perfect class score since we had an extra day to read. I can barely hear him over the chorus of groans.

I pass Jared his quiz without looking up from mine, though I have to bite my lip to keep form smiling when I hear him mutter, "Well shit."

I can't imagine he was prepared for this. I can't say I was, either. Sure, I had completed the required section on Thursday so I would be ready for Friday's discussion, but leave it to Armstrong got give a pop quiz after a long weekend. His quizzes are hard, too. Way more in depth than is necessary for a high school course.

I try not to think too hard as I scribble down my answers, dropping vocab words wherever they fit to make it seem like I know what I'm talking about. When I'm done, I write my name at the top and flip it over.

I glance at Jared's paper and see that the only pencil marking he's made is his name. Jared is staring at the paper, trying to will the answers to write themselves. I subtly nudge him with my elbow, then turn my quiz right-side-up again. Even though Mr Armstrong's ancient eyes can't see across the room, I glance up at him nervously, just to be sure. My grade in this class is dangling on the precipice of a B- and a C+, so I really can't risk getting a zero for cheating.

But the sigh of relief Jared lets out is enough to quell any anxiety about breaking the rules.

When the bell rings, I start to stand up, but Jared catches my elbow. I allow him to gently guide me back into my chair.

"Thanks, Kim." Jared appears almost sheepish, raking a hand through his hair. Or, what's left of it.

"Don't thank me yet," I warn. "I bullshitted the entire thing."

"I trust you." He says, surprising me with his sincerity. Then he really shocks me when he asks, "Do you think you could help me catch up?"

"Uhhh, I'm not sure if that's a good idea. English is _not_ my subject." I see Jared's face fall a little. I can't imagine how stressed he must be about catching up, so I quickly add, "But if you need help with chem or calc, I'm your girl."

Jared brightens at this. So much that I feel like I'm looking directly into the sun. "Okay! D'you mind if I come over after school to get started?"

I stare at him, stunned. I know I probably look stupid, but I can't help it. Jared and I aren't really friends. Sure, we talk in class and complain about homework, and make bets on whether or not today will be the day that Armstrong remembers my name isn't "Connie"- -Jared owes me a _lot_ of money- -but we don't interact outside the bubble of our corner desk in room

"Um, sure." I respond, standing up again. I just hope I don't sound as nervous as I feel. Jared falls into step with me as I walk into the hallway. "I can meet you out front after eighth period?"

Jared beams at me, "Can't wait."

Can't wait to _what_? Discuss derivatives? Get quizzed over the periodic table? My eyebrows raise into the picture of skepticism, but Jared doesn't take back his response. He just smiles and starts walking in the other direction.


	2. Chapter 2

II

When Dad answers his phone, it's on the second ring and with a voice full of anxiety. It's not exactly common of me to call him in the middle of the school day.

"Everything's fine, Dad." I say before I lose him to the _what if's_ and worst case scenarios. "I just wanted to give you a heads up that Jared is coming over after school, so set an extra plate for dinner."

"Jared… as in Jared Cameron?" I can hear his smile through the receiver. " _The_ Jared Cameron?"

"Yes," I confirm, then continue talking before Dad's teasing commences. "Please just keep your cool, okay?"

"I don't know what you mean. I'm cooler than cool. I'm-"

I know where this is going, and I try to stop it. "Don't say it."

"I'm _ice cold_!"

"Oh my god," I groan, more so to the universe than to my father, who is laughing so hard at himself that he doesn't even hear me. I regret ever telling my parents about Jared.

When I hang up the phone, I notice Grace and Natalie standing next to my locker.

"What was that about?" Natalie asks.

Since I don't have any morning classes with either of my friends, I've been bursting at the seams since first period to see them and tell them what happened with Jared. A real advancement this time- -not just me reading way too far into Jared forgetting his book at home and asking if he could look on with me.

"So you know how I sit next to Jared in American lit?" I lead off, and immediately earn two quintessential you've-got-to-be-kidding looks.

"Oh my God! Jared wore that gray tee shirt today!" Natalie gushed in a piss poor imitation of my voice.

"Jared talked to me, like, all of class! What do you think that means?" Grace added between giggles.

"Okay, okay!" I interrupt, my face catching fire. "I'm ridiculous and embarrassing, but do we really have to mock me for it?"

"Yes." They deadpan in unison, which sets them off into another laughing fit.

"Now," Grace says once she sobers up, "Tell us what _amazing_ thing Jared did today."

"Well for starters, he came back." Which was amazing in of itself, but Grace and Natalie don't seem very impressed by that, so I continue with the big news. I really try not to grin like a moron (and fail miserably) when I say, "He asked me if I could help him catch up on his classes, and he's coming over to my house after school."

"Holy shit," Grace says.

"My thoughts exactly."

"Why did he ask you?" Natalie cuts in. Part of me wants to be offended, but I've been asking myself the same question.

"I dunno. I let him copy off my quiz, so I guess - -"

"You let him copy off of you? Kim!" I'm about to defend myself, and tell Grace that it's not that big of a deal, but she keeps talking. "That poor guy is going to get a c- at best because of you."

"Hey! last I checked a c- was better than a zero!" Sure, it's not great, but we can't all be reincarnations of the Bronte sisters. Logistically, there can only be three. And i'm pretty sure one of them is Grace Stevens.

We've sat at the same table in the cafeteria since freshman year, and it just so happens to be directly across the room from the table Jared usually occupies. Except today, he isn't there. He's sitting with Paul Lahote at that table next to the trash cans that nobody ever wants to sit at. There's an empty chair where he used to sit, and the other table members keep glancing over at him.

Alex Baker manages to catch his eye, but Jared only waves a little. It's very strange and a little sad to watch. My eyes must have been burning holes in his back, because Jared turns all the way around in his chair so he's looking directly at me. I'm caught red-handed, or rather, red-cheeked.

You'd think that roughly seven years of pining would make me an expert, and that I would know how to stare more discreetly. I guess not. Even though it's too late, I quickly direct all of my attention to Natalie.

She stops complaining about the calculus exam to shake her head and say, "You're hopeless."

"Tell me about it," I groan. I don't know what it is about Jared Cameron that won't let me go. There are plenty of boys with stupid jokes and amazing smiles in this world, but I always end up comparing them to Jared. _That stupid joke reminds me of the time that Jared said this. Jared's smile is better because he has dimples and this guy doesn't._ At this rate, I'm starting to worry that I'll pull a Ross Gellar at my wedding.

…

When I get out of calculus, Jared is already leaning against my locker. The sight of it makes me so happy that I seem to float rather than walk down the hall.

"Hey," I greet, sounding a little breathless.

"Hey! How was calc?"

"Not as bad as everyone was saying," I shrug. I had actually finished early.

"Speak for yourself," Jared laughs, then grimaces slightly. "I'm never going to catch up."

"Not with that attitude." I nudge him in the side with my elbow. God, he is rock solid. Jared grins at me. "Besides, I happen to be an excellent teacher."

"I'll believe it when I see it," he teases back.

I'm surprised by how easy it is, talking to Jared. I had been worrying about it all day- -the awkward silences, followed by forced small talk. I should have known better. Jared is so easygoing, it's impossible to feel awkward around him.

Strangely, it's when I ask Jared where he's been all week that he goes silent. Because it's high school in a small community, rumors are already flying. I have troubles believing that Jared Cameron got wrapped up in gang activity, but his hesitation is making me second guess my doubt.

"I was sick," he answers carefully, looking straight ahead instead of down at me.

Mom never mentioned seeing Jared in the clinic. Sure, there's doctor-patient confidentiality, but still.

I respond with a noncommittal, "Oh. I'm glad you're feeling better."

Luckily, the awkward silence doesn't have a chance to continue because we're walking up the porch steps to my house. As soon as I push the door open, the savory smell of spiced meat and vegetables swirls around us. The heat that only comes from a long day of using the oven chases away the February chill.

"That smells amazing." Jared inhales heavily, a satisfied smile finding its way to his face.

It smells like insanity. I know exactly what is cooking, and I can barely believe it.

"My room is upstairs, first door on the left," I tell Jared. "I'll be up in a second."

He nods and starts ascending the stairs. They creak under his weight. Once he disappears into my room, I head into the kitchen. Sure enough, there is a large pan in the oven cooking low and slow. Despite myself, my mouth starts to water a little. Mom and Dad are both here, Mom at the table on her computer and dad standing over the stove, boiling potatoes.

"Really dad?" I say by way of greeting. "Grandma's pot roast? what part of 'Keep it cool' translated to: 'Put in more effort than you did for Christmas dinner'?"

"We just wanted to impress the boy our Kimmy has held in such high esteem!"

"Maybe he'll like us as much as you like him," Mom adds, with a hint of suggestion in her tone that makes me blush.

"I don't think that's possible, dear."

I gape wordlessly at my parents, who have somehow managed to embarrass me when we were the only people in the room. All I can do is let out a rather dramatic, "Ugh!" and turn on my heel to go upstairs. When I open the door, Jared is sitting on my floor grinning up at me.

"What're you smiling about?" I ask, struggling to sound suspicious because I'm smiling a bit myself. Jared has the kind of smile that inspires people to smile back.

"I'm just really glad you're doing this for me." He looks at me in a way I can only describe as admiringly, "You're the best, Kim."

I don't really know how to respond to that, so I say, "Do you want to start with calc or chem?" And instantly feel like a moron. If I've hurt Jared's feelings by ignoring his kind words, he doesn't show it.

"They're both so terrible," he whines.

"Chem it is!"

…

Dad calls us down for dinner at just the right time; Jared's eyes are starting to glaze over. Which is to be expected after two hours of calculating molarity. I'm starting to feel the strain of it too. The smell of the potroast cooking sneaking its way under the crack in the door, hasn't done much for our focus, either.

The surface of our small dinner table is all but hidden beneath plates and serving dishes. I wonder how long it took Mom to dust those off. The amount of effort they've put into this is simultaneously embarrassing and endearing. The table is only meant to seat four, so the side that I normally sit on looks quite cramped with two chairs on it. Mom is sitting in the chair from her office.

I look at the cramped arrangement, then at Jared's hulking form, and feel the need to apologize. "We don't get a lot of company."

Jared flashes an easy smile, "Don't worry about it."

He pulls out a chair for me, and I don't miss the way Mom is trying to hide a surprised smile. I also don't miss that I have the exact same expression.

From across the table, Lily watches Jared slide into his chair with curious eyes. With the standard candor of a four-year-old she asks, "Who are you?"

"I'm a friend of your sister's."

She looks genuinely puzzled by Jared's claim. "You're not Grace or Natalie."

"You're right, I'm not," he laughs. "I'm Jared." his arm stretches across the table without issue, and he offers his hand to Lily. She wraps hers around the tips of his fingers because that's all she can hold onto.

She marvels at their linked hands. "You're so big!"

"I think you're just little," Jared teases without missing a beat.

"Lil's right," my dad cuts in. "How tall are you?"

"About six-four, I think." He almost sounds sheepish when he says, "I hit a bit of a growth spurt."

"I'll say! You must be eating your mother out of house and home!" my mom exclaims.

"Not exactly. Ma's cooking is- -well, let's just say it's nothing like this." Jared takes another huge bite of roast. Dad is practically glowing from the praise, and promises to send him home with leftovers.

"You need them more than we do."

"Thank you, mr. connweller."

"Call me Steve," Dad corrects with a smile. Then Dad looks to me, and nods just a little. It's not like Jared is my boyfriend, but knowing that my dad likes him is strangely satisfying.

…

"Thanks again, Kim." Jared says for what could be the hundredth time as his packing up his things.

"It was no biggie," I assure. It really wasn't. Underneath that class clown persona, Jared is really smart.

"We should do this again sometime."

"Probably. You're still pretty behind." A few hours of studying isn't going to be enough to make up for the days of class he missed.

Jared laughs. "No, I meant hang out."

"Oh." Is it possible to feel like crawling under a rock and flying at the same time?

"I mean, I could definitely use more help, but I'd like to spend some time with you. Without a textbook between us."

I can't help it- -I pinch my thigh. Nothing happens. Jared is still here, in front of me as I stare at him like an idiot. I don't know how long it takes me to form the word, "Okay."

"Okay?" there is a gleam in his dark eyes that weirdly reminds me of Lily. There's a sense of wonderment there, like every little thing is new and exciting.

I provide him with a more confident answer. "Yeah, I'd love to."

I walk Jared to the front door. From their spot on the couch, Mom and Dad are not-so-subtly looking at us. Lily sits between them, already in her pajamas with a bowl of chocolate ice cream in her lap. When she sees Jared in the doorway, she jumps up and runs over.

"Are you leaving?" she looks up at him with big, round eyes.

"I've gotta get back to my family." He crouches so he's eye level with my sister. "It was nice to meet you Lily."

Moving remarkably quickly for someone so young, Lily plants a chocolate kiss on his cheek. once everyone starts laughing, she gets embarrassed and scurries back into the living room. She even goes as far as hiding her face in mom's lap.

Without thinking, I reach up and swipe my thumb across Jared's cheekbone, smudging the chocolate away.

"Thanks." A single dimple pops out, and if I'm not mistaken, there is a pinkish tint to his ears. Even with his imposing figure, the effect is- -for lack of a better word- -adorable.

"See you tomorrow?" I think I sound a little bit hopeful.

"See you then," he confirms before heading out the door. Lily stands up on the couch so she can watch him leave through the window.

"She really does like him, doesn't she?" Mom chuckles bemusedly.

"It must run in the family," Dad says, looking directly at me.


	3. Chapter 3

I I I

"Wow, you really have been holding out on us," I feel my eyes go wide as Jared grabs the last slice of pizza from the box that had once contained a large meatlovers pizza. In all the times Jared has come over to my house for dinner, I have never seen him eat this much. I've never seen _anyone_ eat this much.

I pick a piece of pineapple off the slice remaining on my plate. Sally Cameron enthusiastically had ordered a medium Canadian bacon and pineapple pizza. Since Jared refers to her favorite pizza as "an abomination," she was thrilled when I requested it.

"I didn't want to clean out your pantry," Jared says around a mouthful of pizza, giving a self-conscious shrug.

"If only you'd show me the same courtesy," his mother interjects, shaking her head. "I'm on a first name basis with at least half of the staff at the grocery store."

"Well I thought you could use some more friends," Jared snickers.

"How thoughtful," she deadpans, then directs her attention to me. "Now Jared's told me all about you, but- -"

"All good things, I hope," I interject with a nervous smile.

To my surprise, Sally laughs. "Good things? Lord, the boy's got me thinking you hung the moon."

"Guilty," Jared says without looking the least bit apologetic.

I can feel my face heating up. "I'm afraid he might have oversold me then."

"I didn't say anything that wasn't true." Jared promises. I'm about to roll my eyes and tell him to stop being such a kiss-ass, but then he adds, "Like how you're the most neurotic nerd with terrible jokes."

"Terrible jokes, huh?" I raise an eyebrow. "You must be rubbing off on me."

I notice Jared's mom is grinning from ear to ear she she looks from Jared to me to Jared and back to me. she says, "I can see why you two got together."

After these last two weeks thinking this was some kind of fluke, I'm starting to see it too. Even though we aren't together yet, technically. We eat lunch together and study every day after school, but Jared says that he's under a strict "no fun" policy until he gets his grades back up, and having the most amazing girlfriend would be too much of a distraction.

His words, not mine.

I look over at Jared and realize he has his mother's smile.

Everything is just as we left it in the living room. Meaning the space is a disaster. Empty water bottles litter the end tables, and the area rug is camouflaged by note cards, open books and worksheets. The only places that aren't covered are the two spots on the couch Jared and I had previously been sitting on. I fall back onto my side, and as soon as Jared sits down, I prop my feet up on his lap. He uses them to display his calculus book while he crunches numbers. I allow myself to waste just a few moments admiring the way his brows knit together when he concentrates.

Jared is caught up on all of the new material, so he can complete his assignments without my guidance. It's a massive relief, because all of the time I'd spent getting him to this point put me a little behind. I've been up past midnight every night finishing my classwork.

The only sound in the room are pencils scratching on notebook paper and pages turning. I'm thumbing through my textbook, copying dates into a timeline of the pivotal supreme court cases for the government test on Thursday.

I'm so focused that when Jared suddenly slams his book shut, I startle so bad my butt actually flies off the couch cushion. Jared doesn't notice, he's too busy pumping his fist like Bender at the end of _The Breakfast Club_ and he yelling, "I'm done!"

I lean back into the couch and pick up my pencil- -which had flown out of my hand- -so I can get back to work, but then my book is closed too.

"Jared!" I groan, but there's no foundation to my vexation, and it crumbles instantly. I can't find it in me to be annoyed because of the way his eyes are shining, and the genuine eagerness in his voice when he says, "You know what that means?"

"You can quiz me on these?" I present him my list, knowing that wasn't at all what Jared had in mind. Shaking his head, he takes the paper and puts it on the floor next to his books.

"Kimberly Anne Connweller," he says with purpose, and I roll my eyes at his application of my full name. "Will you go on a date with me this Saturday?"

"Hmmmm…" I pretend to mull it over, tapping my finger to my chin. "What's in it for me?"

Jared chuckles and wraps his huge hands around my ankles. He pulls me across the cushions with ease, until I'm sitting sideways on his lap. He rests one hand securely on my thigh and the other gently holds the back of my head. His face only a few inches away from mine, but he still leans in closer, and I think he's going to kiss me.

As soon as my brain thinks it, my body reacts: my heart starts racing, my eyes close and my bottom lip departs from my top lip, waiting. it could be hours or seconds that we're frozen like this. Then, his lips meet my...forehead.

My eyes fly open just as he's pulling away, and he can probably see the disappointment in them. The corner of his mouth curls up into a mischievous smirk.

"You'll just have to wait and see," he says with a wink.

I don't know why i'm so concerned with choosing my outfit for this afternoon, but I am. It's not like Jared has never seen me before. Hell, the first time he actually seemed to take genuine interest in me, I was wearing plaid pajama pants and I didn't have a bra on- -not that he would have noticed that particular detail.

Half of my struggle stems from Jared's advice to "dress warm."

I want to wear the cute sweater dress I've had hanging in the back of my closet since last Christmas, but an outfit with exposed legs doesn't really classify as "warm." So I settle on my favorite dark wash jeans, and a thermal shirt. What's the point of dressing cute if I'm just going to put my hideously sensible winter coat on over it?

As bleakly gray as the sky, and stitched from waterproof material, the coat really is ugly. I'm frowning as I stare at it in the closet. I reach for it with a reluctant hand, but then I see the bright red peacoat hanging in the corner. It fits snugly, and the wool is warm. I wrap a cream scarf around my neck, and look in the mirrored closet door to fiddle with my bangs after I put the matching stocking hat on.

Jared's truck pulls into the driveway right when he said he would pick me up.

I watch as he steps out and walks easily to the porch through my window. He walks inside like he's part of the family, and it feels like I've seen him do this a million times. As if on cue, I hear Lily's squeal of delight when she finds Jared in the doorway, and even though I'm still in my room, I know his picking her up and holding her up over his head. Dad comes next, and I can vaguely hear him ask Jared about his opinion on who the top seeds for the NCAA men's basketball tournament will be.

Nothing about these interactions feel any different. _I_ don't feel any different. I thought I would at least be nervous, but this doesn't feel like some huge step- -as first dates normally do- -but rather like it's just the way things are supposed to be.

Once Dad and Jared's conversation starts to fade, I make my way downstairs. Jared's face seems to light up when he notices me, the way it always does. and I feel my heart skip a beat or two, the way it always does when he looks at me like that. I stop on the last step so I'm closer to Jared's height, even though that only makes me tall enough for Jared to kiss my forehead without bending over.

"Ready to go?"

I hardly have time to nod before Jared is ushering me outside, one hand on my back. He has this bounce in his step that reminds me what drew me to Jared in the first place. For as long as I've known him, Jared has always seemed genuinely happy to be alive.

We drive across the reservation, talking as if it had been days since we last spoke, rather than hours. Surprisingly, we still haven't run out of things to say. I guess half of the credit should go to Jared's friends. He always has some ridiculous story to share. And there are some I wish he wouldn't.

Like this one, for example. Jared is recounting in vivid detail about the time Embry Call ate thirty-seven hot dogs (which, believe it or not, is still only half of the world record), then promptly threw them all up as soon as he tried to stand.

"We actually had to leave early," Jared continues. "He spewed into the actual firepit so the smoke smelled like puke."

Jared is laughing hard at the memory. I look at him, cringing.

"What an idiot," I say, shaking my head. "A disgusting idiot."

"Well, in his defense I did bet him $20 that he couldn't do it."

From what I've gathered, this is typical of Jared and Embry. They're in a constant gambling war, and at this point it's impossible to tell who's coming out on top. I shudder, "Still."

"You have to admit it's funny."

"If that's what happens at these bonfires… don't invite me to the next one," I say, only kidding a little.

"Fair enough." Jared laughs good naturedly. He puts the truck in park, and I realize that we're in his driveway. He takes my hand and guides me not to the front door, but to the back yard. I glance over my shoulder at the house, then back to Jared.

"We're not going inside."

obviously. "Where _are_ we going?"

We're slogging through nearly a foot of snow, headed into the treeline. I slow my pace just enough so I can walk in Jared's giant footsteps while still holding onto his hand. After a few paces, Jared seems to catch on and he abruptly stops walking. Unsuspecting, I crash into him. He drops my hand, and reaches around my back. I feel his grip tighten, and move away.

"I can walk," I insist. "You've already got that bag full of stuff, and I- -"

Jared rolls his eyes and scoffs, "Please."

Then I'm being swept off my feet, without Jared so much as grunting with the effort. Now that my short legs aren't slowing us down, we make it to our destination in a matter of minutes.

We've arrived at a small pond. It's probably the same size as my backyard, and completely frozen over.

"Me and me brother Andrew found this place once summer. It was the best place to swim."

I look at him skeptically. "Is that what we're doing today?"

"Wait- -did I forget to ask if you knew how to ice skate?"

"It must've slipped your mind." Jared makes a show of face-palming himself. "And in theory, yes. In practice… not so much."

"Don't worry, lil' darlin'," he shoots me his most charming smile. Which happens to be so charming, I can forgive the stupid southern accent. "I won't let you fall."

I clasp my hands over my heart and swoon in my own over-exaggerated drawl, "My hero."

He puts me down, and brushes the snow off of a log so we can sit down and put on the skates.

Jared pulls two sets of ice skates out from his bag. Both pairs have seen better days; each possess frayed laces and one pair has a hole in the right toe. He holds up the smaller skates, "This was my first pair… I swear, Ma never throws anything away."

The pair jared is currently lacing up are definitely also second-hand, but I can't imagine these also came from the Cameron's attic. There's no way they would have fit Jared last winter. He really did grow _that_ much, _that_ quickly.

I stand up, and instantly my knees begin to wobble. I haven't been skating in years- -not since extravagant birthday parties died out in junior high- -and I wasn't good then, either.

I lean heavily on Jared as he guides us onto the ice, and somehow my grip becomes even tighter. After a few laps around the perimeter of the pond, I start to gain more confidence. I relinquish my death grip on Jared's forearm, and lace my fingers with his. He seems to take this as an invitation to skate faster.

I beg him to slow down, but it only encourages him. He's behind me, pushing me in front of him as we whiz across the ice. And suddenly, his fingers dig into my hips, and I'm suspended above his head while he spins us around.

My feet are kicking for purchase, but find only air. I let out something between a laugh and a shriek and, "Put me down!"

He obliges. Pouting, I shove him with my shoulder, but Jared might as well be a boulder. He doesn't budge, but I end up disrupting my own balance. After a brief second of flailing, I'm almost positive I'm going to hit the ice face first, but then Jared is there, wrapping an arm around my waist and hauling me upright.

I blink up at him, bewildered. Before I can as how the Hell he managed to be so dextrous on ice, Jared says, "I used to skate with Drew and some of his friends almost every day. You learn how to move pretty fast when someone's trying to tackle you."

Apparently, their hockey games got pretty intense, and Jared always got the worst of it. It is a truth universally acknowledged that the younger brother will always be picked on by not only the older brother, but all of his friends. And the little brother endures it because he's just happy to be included. Jared was no exception.

He recounted what sounded to me like horror stories with a nostalgic smile. "He wasn't always like that. Andrew was the one who taught me all about girls and showed me how to shave. Even though he was only four years older, I really leaned on him after my dad left."

I squeeze Jared's hand. "I'm glad you had him."

"He's the best," Jared agrees. "He doesn't come home much, so you probably won't be able to meet him until Thanksgiving."

Jared already sees us together for Thanksgiving. The idea of it warms me all the way down to my numbing toes. I look down at them and realize that Jared and I have remained stationary for the entire conversation. Without the constant motion, I can feel the soreness settling into my feet.

"Wanna sit down for a cocoa break?"

I swear the boy can read my mind or something.

We sit back down on the log, and Jared fishes around in his backpack. He presents two brightly colored mugs, and a large thermos. When he opens the lid of the canister, steam swirls through the crisp air.

I can smell the chocolate when Jared pours the cocoa into the mugs. He hands me one which I take greedily. My fingers curl around the warm ceramic, and it's like I can feel them thawing out.

I hold steady as he creates a mountain of whipped cream on my drink. I grin at him. "You know me so well already."

A smile stretches across Jared's face. He raises his mug, and I clink my mug against it. The first sip warms me from the inside out. And it's the good stuff, too. made with milk, not water.

I look up to compliment him on the drink when I notice he's laughing to himself. I quirk an eyebrow, "What?"

"You've got a little something." He points at what once was a perfect swirl of cream, but now was a lump with a crater in the center of it. Presumably, from my nose.

"Where?"

"There." He gestures to his whole face.

"So helpful."

"Here, let me get it."

He flicks my nose with his finger, and laughs when my nose reflexively wrinkles. He surprises me by leaning in and kissing it. The corner of my mouth is still turned up in a smile when he kisses me there. His nose nudges mine, and then our lips fall together, soft and open.

Kissing Jared makes me understand why people say it feels like melting. I am dissolving into him.

He pulls away too soon and already grinning. "There."

I sound a little breathless when I say, "I think you missed a spot."

When he leans closer, I feel a chill run down my back that might be from the thrill of the moment, but possibly from the cold. The force of it makes my teeth clatter. Jared jerks back.

"You're cold." he states matter-of-factly.

I want to disagree, or make the argument that I wouldn't be if he'd just kiss me again, but he's already got a hand around my wrist, gently pulling me off of our makeshift bench. "We better get you back inside."

Jared insists on carrying me back to the house. Although, I can't say I put up much of a fight about it. Once we get inside, we immediately shed our winter gear and settle in front of the fireplace. Jared stretches out like a cat, and I sit next to him. Instead of warming my feet by the hearth, I slide them under his shirt. He jumps at the sudden cold.

"Kimmy," he draws out the sound of my name until it becomes a rather pathetic whine.

In response, I move my feet higher on his back. He flinches again, and I can't help but laugh. "It's not my fault you're so warm."

"It _is_ your fault that you're taking advantage of me," Jared counters, twisting around to give me a pointed look.

"You got me," I hold my hands up in surrender. "I'm only dating you to keep my toes warm."

"Well, if that's the case, you should dump me now." He looks at me seriously when he continues,"I probably could've planned something warmer for today."

His shoulders heave in a self-deprecating sort of shrug.

"Like what? Dinner and a movie in Port Angeles?" I don't let him answer. "This was twice as much fun as that would've been. This was the most fun I've had in a long time."

Jared visibly brightens. "Really?"

"Really."

And it wasn't just this afternoon. Recently, my _life_ has been more fun than I can remember it being- -thanks to Jared. Even though it's only been like this for a short time, I already can't imagine my life going back to the way it was.


	4. Chapter 4

I V

Mr Armstrong has about as much charisma as a piece of stale bread, and starting off every day with his monotone is admittedly very dull, but Jared is literally snoring during the lecture on F. Scott Fitzgerald. It's loud enough to make a few heads turn. I elbow him deftly in the side, and he startles awake. When I ask what's up, he responds by leaning his head on my shoulder and issuing his standard, "Just tired."

I shake him off, and roll my eyes. "What time did you go to bed?"

"Too late," he answers vaguely.

I can't help the frown that settles on my face, and stubbornly stays put for the rest of class.

A few short months ago, I would have claimed to know Jared Cameron better than anyone else. Through my near-obsessive observations, I had learned that he chews on the erasers of pencils while concentrating (which is gross, but endearing enough that it's forgivable), and that if he had his glasses on, it was because he woke up late and didn't have time to fiddle with his contact lenses. He hasn't worn his glasses in a while, so I guess despite the fact he can pass out in the middle of class, he has no issue with getting out of bed in the morning.

It's small revelations about glasses, and haircuts, and the size of Jared's hands that make me think that the closer I get with Jared, the less I seem to know about him. Which all seems very backwards to me.

"I guess I'm just worried about him," I lament to Natalie as we walk to lunch together.

"He's not a baby, Kim."

"I know that," I sigh. "I just want him to know he can tell me if something's wrong."

Grace is already at the table, and already arguing with Paul. Since Jared and I got together, the five of us have started to occupy one table. Jared wanted to spend more time with me, and Paul was just happy to get away from the trash cans. Even if he hates Grace, and the feeling is more than mutual.

Natalie, Jared and I have a running bet on how long it will be before they hook up. The tension is palpable. Finally relinquishing her scowl, Grace turns to us and asks when we're going prom dress shopping.

Admittedly, I'd forgotten all about prom. Jared and I haven't talked about it since he asked me if I would go with him.

"If we don't go soon, we'll be wearing garbage bags," Natalie says. It's already late March, so there's no doubt that a lot of dresses have already been sold.

"We'll have to check out a lot of stores," I sigh, already exhausted.

"Don't be like that Kimmy," Grace chides. "It could be fun! We'll make a day out of it, go out for lunch at that pizza place you love."

I feel myself brighten at the thought of wood-fired pizza and breadsticks.

Paul repeats what Grace said in a high-pitched, nasal rendition of her voice. It's stupid and childish, but so is Grace. She throws a grape at him- -hard. He's too busy snickering to notice, and it bounces off his forehead.

We decide to leave before Paul can retaliate, and get us all suspended for starting a food fight.

I sit on the porch with my calculus book open in my lap. I've been working on the same problem for the past twenty minutes, because I keep getting distracted. Jared and Lily are playing in the yard. My sister's squeals of delight echo down the street as Jared tosses her high in the air. So high, it really does look like she's flying for a split second. I would be a nervous wreck if I didn't know Jared to have impeccable reflexes.

Maybe, if the next few afternoons go exactly like this one, Lily won't put up a fight when bedtime rolls around. And if I'm really lucky, she'll be so exhausted, I won't have to read fourteen books until she finally closes her eyes. Normally, that's Mom's job, but while she and Dad celebrate their 20th anniversary in some resort outside Vancouver for the weekend, I'm in charge of Lily. I mentioned that Jared might hang around- -which would be most parents' waking nightmare- -but my parents let out huge sighs of relief.

It becomes clear that I won't be getting any homework done until Sunday night, so I close my book and go check the mail instead. Stuffed inside, is a huge envelope postmarked from the University of Washington. Without even opening it, I knew it was my room assignment for my freshman year. Suddenly, I can't get inside fast enough. I've been stressing out about which building I'll be in. With my luck, it will be the one furthest away from my classes. I hardly notice Jared and Lily had followed me inside until I feel Jared looking over my shoulder.

"This is my roommate for next semester," I inform him, pointing to the small picture. She looks nice enough, I guess. According to the limited information I have, she's majoring in sports medicine, so we have a little in common.

"UW's in Seattle, right?"

"Yeah," I nod, and I think about those miles between the dorm waiting for me- -not the furthest one off campus, thank God- -and where I stand now. I think about leaving Lily and my parents, and my stomach twists. "I'm nervous already."

I finally look up from my information sheets and turn to Jared. He has gone eerily still. His eyes are fixed on the paper-not reading it, just staring in a way that isn't so much blank as it is empty. But in the time it takes me to blink, Jared is sporting a face-splitting grin.

"Don't be," He braces his hands on my shoulders and gives them a reassuring squeeze. "You're so brilliant, Kim. You're going to do amazing."

It's so genuine, I begin to doubt that I ever saw that flash of an expression.

When I ask about his college plans, he shrugs. "I dunno."

He isn't quite looking at me. I can tell that he doesn't really want to talk about it, but I want him to know that he still has time to decide, and he shouldn't worry. But he shouldn't be scared about applying, either. When I tell Jared this, he doesn't look like he believes me, which is abundantly frustrating.

"Jared Cameron," I huff, crossing my arms to show him that I am very serious. "You are smart. And you are a hard worker. Any school would be lucky to have you, but until you're ready for that, La Push is lucky to have you, too."

"How do you do that?" he asks me, shaking his head slowly with this kind of awed smile on his face.

"Do what?"

"Know exactly what to say to me."

My hope that Jared would wear Lily out and make bedtime easier was horribly misguided. If anything, Jared's presence has made her even more reluctant to go to sleep. Three books, two cookies, and one solemn promise to come back tomorrow later, Jared and I fall onto my bed with an exhausted sigh so synchronized, it seems practiced.

"I'm never having kids," I decide.

"I like the way you think," Jared agrees.

It can't have been more than fifteen minutes before Jared tells me that he has to leave.

"Can't you stay a _little_ longer?" Deep down, I know I'm being needy. But Jared is warm and comfortable and here with me and I just want to exist inside this perfect bubble a little while longer.

He sighs. "I wish I could, but- -"

"You've been so tired, wouldn't it be nice to just," I swing a leg over his lap, and brace my hands on his shoulders as though to push him back down. I don't though- -as if all of my strength would even make an impact. Instead, i lean in and press a kiss to his neck. Two. Three. All the way up to his ear. "Relax for a while?"

Somehow looking as though he's winning and losing at the same time, Jared collapses back onto the pillow. I hover over him, my hands on either side of his head, my hair hanging like a curtain around us.

He shakes his head at me, his hands run up my sides. "You, Kimberly Connweller, are an absolute vixen."

* * *

I notice right away that something is wrong. Jared has been stiff and quiet since he came over. The _quiet_ part is particularly concerning. I tug on his shirt sleeve to steal his attention back from the window.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, why?"

I look at him through narrowed eyes. "I'm a little insulted if you think I'd buy that."

Jared sighs heavily, "Sorry, you're right. You know me too well."

"So… are you gonna tell me what's bugging you?"

"I guess I can't keep it from you forever." I shoot him a puzzled glance, but he doesn't continue. He stands up, then extends a hand to me. "Come outside with me?"

"Um, okay."

"What do you know about the legends of our tribe?"

"I don't remember everything," I admit. "But what does this have to do with- -"

"It does." He interrupts, not quite sharply, but it's enough to surprise me. Jared takes a deep breath, anchoring himself. "Just bear with me, okay?"

"Okay." Jared doesn't say anything, and I realize that he's still waiting for me to fill him in on the legends. "Great Chief Taha Aki had the ability to transform into a wolf. With this gift, he was able to protect our people from the cold ones- -vampires."

"Right." Jared affirms, nodding stiffly. He rolls his shoulders, as if trying to relieve the tension. "Taha Aki had three wives, and children with each of them. So, he has many descendants."

"That's usually how it works…" I try to joke, but I'm so confused and Jared is so nervous it doesn't have the intended effect, belly flopping between us.

"I'm one of them," he says.

I never thought Jared would be the type to look into genealogy. "That's… pretty cool."

His brow furrowed like he was frustrated. _Should I have acted more excited?_

"I found out the beginning of February," he starts again, cautious in a way I've never known Jared to be. "When I phased for the first time."

"Phased…" I repeat the word quietly. Jared nods solemnly.

"Into a wolf."

I blink up at him. "I know I say this a lot, but _this_ is definitely your stupidest joke yet."

"I'm serious."

"Seriously weird," I snort.

Jared lets out a dry laugh. "You have _no_ idea." He looks down at me, his gaze heavy. "Kim, the legends are true."

The intense edge in his eyes keeps me from making another joke. I just stare at him under tightly woven brows.

"I'm gonna go behind the trees to phase." Jared informs me, and I marvel at how casual he makes it sound. "It looks kinda...freaky."

He disappears, leaving me to mull over what ridiculous costume he's going to come out wearing. I can only assume this is part of some dumb practical joke. But then I see it.

Stepping out from the cover of the trees is a giant brown wolf. And I mean giant. This wolf eats the Olympic wolf for breakfast. He comes closer slowly and I stand still as a statue. I'm not even sure I'm breathing. The wolf lays down, watches me watch it. The stalemate stretches for long, silent minutes before I can bring myself to step forward.

You know how late night thoughts kind of lead you into weird places? I've stared at your bedroom ceiling, wondering what language animals think in; plotted out how I should have responded to Becky Powell when she called my bangs tacky in the fifth grade. But I've never once considered what I would do if my boyfriend became a giant predator.

The first step, I suppose, is to not think of him as a predator. Don't allow myself to dwell on the corded muscle, or the razor sharp teeth that could literally separate my head from my neck. Instead, I focus on his fur: the color of chocolate, and surprisingly soft. I run my fingers through it in the spot behind his ear.

I wonder to myself why I'm doing this, because this isn't a golden retriever, it's a wolf. Except it's not a wolf because it's Jared. His eyes close and I look and see that his tail- -Jared has a _tail_ \- -is wagging.

I can't help but giggle at the realization. But that small laugh continues to grow until tears are falling and I can barely breathe. While this is technically a serious matter, it is also entirely ridiculous.

"I'm sorry," I wheeze, as I lean against Jared's side. He's just as warm as a wolf as he is as a person.

"This is just so…." I trail off, trying to find the right word. But there's nothing in the English language that can encapsulate what is happening in front of me so I settle on, " _Weird_." I feel him shift behind me, and I'm not sure if it's because he's trying to make himself more comfortable on the ground, or if I've offended him. In case it's the latter, I quickly amend, "No offense."

The clouds loom above, like they always do. The dirt is almost damp enough to be considered mud, like it always is. It is the picture of a normal afternoon in the Pacific Northwest. Except, there's a loose thread in the tapestry. I imagine that if someone were to pull on it, the whole thing would come apart.

I understand why Jared has seemed so worn out; this is a heavy secret to bear.

"Okay, you can change back now," I say as I clamber off the ground and brush off my jeans. "This is starting to get weird. You've never been quiet for this long."

He lets out this a wheezing bark noise that just might be a laugh as he disappears behind the trees. He's still buttoning his jeans when he reemerges. I look away, color blooming on my cheeks.

"This isn't …. _too_ weird for you, is it?" He asks, uncharacteristically serious again. "Or scary? Because if it is-"

"It's not," I promise swiftly. The look Jared gives me in response makes me feel as though I've spoke too soon, or like I'm missing something. And then I remember. My voice comes out very softly, "Are _all_ of the legends true?"


End file.
